Seeing in the Dark
by randomwriting
Summary: It took the darkness for Tim to see the light. SC


Seeing In the Dark 

Disclaimer: CBS, creators, producers, etc., own all recognizable characters, not me; I'm just borrowing them.

AN1: This story is a companion piece that precedes _Shades of Gray_.

AN2: Written for the MiamiFicTalk challenge

_"Things were good between us Calleigh. Not like anything I'd ever even imagined. Our relationship changed. I changed." She gave him an almost imperceptible nod of her head. A wistful smile formed on her lips._

_"Things did change. I could almost tell you the day." He waited for her to say more, but instead she turned her far away gaze to the window._ From: _Shades of Gray_, Ch2

Seeing In the Dark

A cacophony of noise woke him from his first deep sleep in days. Shrill cries merged with a deafening peal of thunder that shook the walls of the tidy, three-bedroom house Tim shared with his wife and five month old daughter. Blinking away the fog of sleep while simultaneously feeling for his wife in the dark, Tim was awake almost instantly. His wife, buried deep in her pillow, hadn't stirred. Feeling the slight rise and fall of her chest under his palm, he quickly surmised she was still out like a light. Searching for the clock on the bedside table, he came up empty and blinked again. The neon green numbers had gone dark, a sure sign the storm raging outside had zapped the electricity.

A bright flash of lightning illuminated the darkened room, bathing it in a light eerily reminiscent of daytime, and just as quickly it disappeared, transforming the room to its previous pitch-black state. A second flash followed right on the heels of the first, accompanied by a clap of thunder that sounded directly overhead.

Next to him, Calleigh barely flinched. She remained blissfully unaware of the baby's cries, a testament to her utter exhaustion. Five sleepless nights spent in her daughter's hospital room had taken their toll.

The shrieks, meanwhile, intensified. Tim launched himself out of bed like a bullet, fumbling for a T-shirt while at the same time, deftly rooting in the bedside table for the flashlight he kept there. "Damn batteries better not be dead," he mumbled under his breath as he quickly headed for the bedroom door.

Inherently attentive to detail, he'd been paying attention the past few months and had gotten to know his little one's cries as well as he knew the various tonal distinctions in his wife's lilting voice. And these cries were like none he'd ever heard. Swiftly he made it across the room and into the hallway, but didn't seem to be moving fast enough gauging by the frantic wails that sent his heart racing. She sounded terrified; there was no other explanation unless she'd somehow been badly hurt. Approaching the nursery, his alarm intensified as the sound of loose, barking coughs mixed with the cries.

"I'm coming Ali," he called out. "Daddy's coming." At the sound of his voice, the cries grew more frantic, but he continued calling to her in the vain hopes that his voice might provide some reassurance. Flashing the light into the crib, he drew a sharp breath at the sight of her fear filled, saucer sized eyes. "I'm right here, baby," he reassured, giving her a cursory once over. Relieved to find her unharmed, he let out the anxious breath he'd been holding.

With one fluid movement, he reached into the crib and scooped the tiny, flailing bundle into his arms. Whatever paternal instincts had lain dormant till this moment exploded to the surface in an adrenalin filled rush of protectiveness that was unlike any emotion he'd ever before felt. Holding her securely against his chest, he rubbed her back soothingly as the muffled sobs lessened. He'd seen her sick, he'd seen her frantic, but her fear filled eyes were something Tim had never before seen. And hoped he wouldn't again for some time.

He could feel the rapid hammering of her heart, but fortunately the close contact with his chest seemed to have some calming effect on his daughter. He could only hope something would soon have the same effect on his own elevated heart rate. "I got you. You're okay, I won't let you go," he murmured in a voice barely above a whisper.

Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes hoping to stop the parade of imagined dark and dire scenarios flitting across his mind. With each flash and subsequent peal of thunder, he clasped her tighter as he rocked back and forth on his feet, finding the movement had as much of a tranquilizing effect on him as it did on Ali.

Only five months old and she'd already endured far more than most babies her age. Hospitalized three times since her almost six week early arrival, Ali had been poked, prodded, and handled by strangers more times than he could count, but she'd never endured a minute of it alone. Always Calleigh, and oftentimes Tim, maintained a constant vigil by her side. Their continuous presence made a big difference in how well their baby girl handled the stress of hospitalizations and the like.

Tonight, however, was different. Whether it was the violent storm electrifying the air and shaking the walls that scared her or waking confused and alone in a pitch-black room, Tim couldn't say. What he did know was that his baby girl was afraid, and that fear unleashed a subsequent surge of emotion in him that was impossible to ignore. The current tightening in his chest was evidence to that.

A paroxysm of coughing jolted him from his preoccupation. Ali's recent bout with pneumonia landed her in the hospital for five tense days, had she come home too soon? Pressing his lips lightly against her temple, he was relieved to discover her skin was cool despite her earlier flailing around in the crib. Additionally her breathing had slowed and he'd detected no wheezing. All the evidence seemed to indicate that physically, except for an expected lingering cough, she was fine.

Holding her close, he could feel her small body shudder in his arms. He hated waking his wife, but clearly their baby needed some serious comforting and that sort of thing fell to Calleigh. Actually, almost everything baby related fell to Calleigh, he realized guiltily. Of course, the fact that Calleigh was breast-feeding had a lot to do with it. The reality was that Calleigh, technically still on maternity leave for another month, was working from home, while Tim, through no fault of his own, was working more hours than ever before.

It wasn't as if he was _choosing_ work over home, it just worked out that way. The fact that he was more comfortable at work had little to do with it. He was simply better suited to his job at the crime lab, at least that's what he told himself. Yet somehow the words did little to alleviate the unease that gripped his insides whenever he held his little girl.

Had the unwilling parent become the parent unwilling, a detached spectator in his own child's life? One who preferred the role of part-time participant to that of fully engaged parent?

But he wasn't unwilling, any more than he was uninvolved or detached, at least not anymore the voice in his head reminded. _At least not anymore_. The thought froze in his brain, an uncomfortable reminder that some truths could never truly be forgotten.

For too long he'd viewed his daughter as simply an extension of her mother, part and parcel of the woman he quietly loved, a package deal that came with the ring he'd recently put on his wife's finger. Adjustment to this premature addition hadn't come without considerable effort on Tim's part, but he'd done what was necessary for his new family.

Although this gradual rise in comfort and familiarity had gone far in quelling the ceaseless doubts that plagued him during his unanticipated and undesired foray into parenthood, inner peace remained notably absent. Instead he remained tentative, unsettled, and dogged by guilt. Guilt that appeared frequently on restless nights in the form of a simple, yet thus far, unanswered question: _How can I ever be the father she needs, let alone the father she deserves?_

A flash of lightning followed by another deafening rumble of thunder surprised Ali, who tensed in his arms. Gently he patted her back, murmuring what he hoped were soothing words while he continued debating whether or not to wake his wife. Ali's cries had subsided, but he doubted the crisis was over. Grabbing hold of his T-shirt in her tiny fist, she clasped it tightly as if fearing he'd soon let go. The small gesture tugged on his already swollen heart. Tightening his hold on her, he felt her small body shudder one final time before giving in and relaxing against him.

This was a surprise; he hadn't expected her to settle so quickly, especially not without her mother's intervention. He quirked a questioning brow at the relaxed and quiet bundle in his arms as he considered his next move. Having given in to the urge to wake his wife, he'd been partway to the door when he stopped short. Deciding it might be safe to let Calleigh sleep, he turned back around and headed instead for the rocking chair. Along the way, he deftly stood the flashlight upright on the changing table with his free hand. Its beam illuminated the room in a soft glow similar to the nightlight Ali had obviously grown accustomed to. He chuckled softly as she squirmed, straining her neck in the direction of the light, confirming his assessment. "Thought that might be the problem," he said, following her line of sight.

Stopping by the crib, he grabbed her soft, flannel blanket before pulling the chair away from its usual spot by the window, lest the storm frighten her once more. With a barely suppressed yawn, he settled into the cushions, positioned her into the crook of his arm, and loosely draped the blanket over her. She stared up at him wide-eyed, intent on his every movement.

"You don't exactly look ready to go back to sleep," he said with amusement, hoping the rocking motion might remedy that. Another rumble of thunder muffled his voice and startled Ali. His brow creased with worry as he instinctively drew her closer. "You okay, little one?" Her answer came in the form of an unexpected toothless grin, one he couldn't help but return. "I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled. "Think maybe we can let your mama sleep?" The question was met with another grin, this time accompanied by enthusiastic babbling.

His lips twitched with delight as he shook his head at her, amazed at how quickly the storm in the nursery passed. His humor, however, was soon tempered by the heady notion that what his daughter needed, he'd been able to give her.

What she'd needed … was him.

The thought caught on his heart as he contemplated this realization. This little girl brought a joy to his life he'd never before experienced. She flashed him a smile and his insides turned to mush. It had come as a slow, subtle realization, but he could no longer imagine his life without her. The best part of him, the best part of he and Calleigh together, she'd filled his heart with a kind of love he'd never anticipated.

In return, what she deserved from him was all the love he could give her.

He had that.

Still, the cynical voice in his head cut through his thoughts leaving nagging doubt in its wake. _Could he really be enough?_

Responding to his contemplative look, Ali's own expression grew serious. A pair of muddied eyes that would soon match his in color, fixed on him with an intensity he'd come to expect. His daughter regarded the world with a slightly wary fascination that rivaled his own. And lately, he'd become her favorite subject, which he would know because he'd been watching her just as closely as she'd been watching him.

Gently he stroked the side of her sweet peach cheek, slowly moving his fingers to the ticklish spot he'd discovered just below her ear. Same spot as her mother, he thought with a smirk. He was swiftly rewarded with a giggle that had her wiggling with delight.

Although her mother had been the recipient of her first few smiles, Tim had had the distinct pleasure of being on the receiving end of her first real laugh just a few weeks earlier. To this day he wasn't certain which of them was more surprised when the giggles slipped out of her. As she continued babbling happily, he chuckled along with her before it occurred to him that her mother would likely prefer her daughter sleeping at this hour rather than entertaining her father.

With the hope of possibly lulling her to sleep, he stroked her forehead just as he'd seen Calleigh do on many a night. His fingers slid gently over smooth skin and tufts of silky hair the color of rich chocolate, tufts that stuck up at odd angles and curled in tiny ringlets along the nape much like his own. The feather light caresses combined with the rocking motion of the chair had her lids drooping in a matter of minutes. A twitch of a smile flickered across her rosebud mouth before sleep finally claimed her.

To think he'd almost missed this.

Afraid to give his heart, she'd taken it anyway. Just as her mother had before her.  
And he'd never been happier. Relaxed, he settled back into the cushion, content to watch her sleep. This was a moment worth savoring and he intended to for as long as he could.

The storm was rumbling in the distance, an echo of its former self, leaving behind the soothing sound of a steady rain. Tim's eyes grew heavy, but he fought the urge to close them. Just a little bit longer, he thought. Eventually he'd put her back in the crib, but he wasn't ready yet.

What he really wanted was for her to know he wasn't going anywhere. Some truths could never truly be forgotten, but that didn't mean they would forever define him.

The sounds of footsteps in the hallway pulled him from his ponderings and he turned his head to the doorway.

"Tim?" His wife's soft voice called.

"In here," he answered in a low whisper, surprised to discover her awake. "Baby, what are you doing up?" he asked as she padded into the room.

"Is she okay?" Crouched beside the rocker, Calleigh ignored his question, fixing her attention on their slumbering daughter instead. Instinctively her fingertips landed on Ali's forehead; her lips followed suit mere moments later. "She feels cool." Her terse words held a note of disbelief.

"Yeah, she is. She's fine, I checked her out," he reassured. "She's been sleeping for a bit now, which is what you should be doing." Arching a brow in her direction, he heard her deep intake of breath as she knelt beside him. Leaning against the side of the chair, she kept her hand poised by Ali's head, intermittently stoking her forehead with the tips of her fingers.

"I thought I was dreaming," she began as if talking to herself. "It was an awful dream. Ali was crying, and I heard explosions in the background, but I couldn't find her or you. I couldn't open my eyes. I couldn't move, so I just let her cry. I couldn't make myself wake up." The anguish in her voice pained him. Instinctively he reached for her with his free hand. Placing his hand under her long locks, he gently rubbed the back of her neck. "I rolled over and found the bed empty." She lifted her chin to him, meeting his gaze. Even in this dim light he could see the vulnerability she couldn't mask. It was evident the past few days had exacted a heavy toll on his normally unflappable wife and her anxiety was coming through in her dreams. He could all but see the fear filled fantasies still playing out in her troubled mind. Having recently become acquainted with the primal place from whence they originated, he understood how those dark fears grabbed hold and wouldn't let go. "You were gone. And the room was pitch-black," she continued. "That's when I realized it hadn't been a dream. She'd been crying the whole time." Heavy guilt clung to each word she spoke. Lowering her eyes, and tensing her shoulders, she turned her attention back to Ali. "Thank you for getting her," she added in a voice so soft he barely heard her.

There was no intent in her words. He knew that. He knew her. She was too busy berating herself for all her imagined failings to begin to consider his. But he had. Considered, catalogued and memorized. He swallowed uncomfortably, eyes darting between his wife and his daughter. His guilt would wait. With luck and a prayer, he'd have a lifetime to vanquish his guilt and redeem himself in her eyes, in both their eyes, but right now, all that mattered was vanquishing hers.

"Cal, don't do that to yourself. You're exhausted. You've been up with her..." She swung around to face him, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"That's no excuse."

"Yeah, baby, it is. And considering you've been up with her all week, it's a darn good one." An irritated sigh escaped her lips. Irritated at herself for needing sleep, or at him for letting her off the hook, he couldn't tell. "You don't have to do this all by yourself, Cal. I'm here," he emphasized, catching her gaze.

She nodded, sighing again. Her shoulders relaxed and her expression softened while she seemed to consider his words. "I know you are. I can't imagine going through any of his without you." Yet she would and willingly, with or without him. He knew that, had always known that, just as he knew she had hoped not to. Just as he knew he never would have let her. He couldn't help but wonder, though, how much of a disappointment his semblance of a presence these past few months had been. Dropping his eyes from hers, he drew in a deep breath as his mind turned over the impossible to forget, uncomfortable truths once more. Had she given up what she needed in order to settle for what he'd been willing to give? Looking up, he met her tender gaze. "You do more than you think," she said, almost as if reading his mind.

"I don't know about that," he answered shooting her a doubtful look. "But I want to. Those nights at the hospital when you sent me home to sleep while you stayed up with her? Well, now it's my turn to be up. I wanted you to get some sleep."

"Well, thank you for that," she said, offering a genuine smile. "Do you think it was the storm that woke her?"

"Yeah, I do." He looked down at his sleeping baby, who had barely stirred once he'd gotten her off to sleep. "It was right on top of us and it was loud, loud enough to shake the walls. Fortunately, it moved through pretty quickly. I think the storm woke her and being in the dark scared her."

A look of concern washed over her features. "That makes sense. I never thought about it before, but I'm not sure she's ever been left in the dark. Certainly not in the hospital where there's always a light on, even in the middle of the night, and we've always had a night light in her room." She turned her attention back to Ali. "Poor baby, she must've been terrified," she murmured, gently stroking the sleeping infant's forehead.

"Yeah, I think she was. I've never heard her cry like that. I'm telling you, it's the fastest I've ever moved. I didn't know if she was hurt, or what. It kinda shook me," he admitted. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm just glad she was alright."

"Mm," she nodded, turning back to him. "I'm glad you got to her so quickly. I still can't believe I slept through it thinking I was dreaming the whole time," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I would've woken you if I'd needed to. Actually I thought I was going to have to," he confessed sheepishly. She looked at him pointedly, waiting for him to continue. "She was beside herself. I figured she needed you. I was halfway to the door when she calmed down and just like that," he paused, snapping his fingers, "she was fine. I even had her laughing. Surprised me," he said, shrugging. If she hadn't heard it in his voice, his bewildered expression would've tipped her off to how unexpected this development was for him.

She wore a bemused expression as she tilted her head in his direction. "Now why would that surprise you?" His response was a wordless shrug. "She woke up scared in the middle of the night, Tim. You were exactly what she needed," she answered matter of fact.

"I don't really see myself that way," he said, struggling with the words.

"What way?" she asked in a gentle voice. She'd been sitting on the floor, leaning against the chair and she swiveled now, so that she faced him fully.

He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Sighing deeply, he looked away, avoiding her penetrating gaze. When she looked at him that way, he imagined her peeling back the layers, all the way to his inner core. What it was she saw there, he couldn't imagine. Realizing she was waiting on an answer, he finally gave her one on the tail of another frustrated sigh. "I don't know." There was a better answer, but he hesitated. Lost in a flurry of scattered thoughts, he turned towards the window, catching the tail end of a flash of lightning in the distance. Calleigh placed her hand on his forearm drawing him back. "I don't see myself as what she needs," he finally admitted in a rough voice.

"Look at her," Calleigh directed. "Because of you she's as relaxed and contented as I've ever seen. And you know that's not usually the case when Ali sleeps." That was true, he supposed. His daughter was a restless sleeper, had been since her first night home. On nights he couldn't sleep, he'd lie awake listening to her rustling in the crib. The sounds coming out of the baby monitor were a constant reminder that she was _there_. As if he could ever forget. But lately he'd begun to find those same nighttime baby noises reassuring, a comforting reminder that she was _there_. It was nice. A small smile tugged on the corner of his lip as he watched his little girl sleep. "She's just like you, you know." Curious he turned his attention back to his wife. There was no mistaking the look of amusement that flickered in her eyes. "She fidgets in her sleep," she said with a grin she couldn't hide.

He shook his head. "I don't fidget in my sleep," he answered a little too quickly. Frowning, he studied his wife who looked ready to choke on the giggles she was holding back. "And what are you doing watching me when you're supposed to be sleeping, anyway?"

"Your daughter is not the only one who finds you fascinating, you know."

Her comment caught him off guard and he stiffened slightly. His eyes darted about the room as a feeling of discomfit settled over him. His wife's devotion was another reminder he'd been given far more than he gave. "I don't know why you would."

"I do." Her hand snuck up, landing on his coarse, unshaven cheek. He twisted in her direction and leaned into the touch. "Tim, what Ali needs is to be loved by the only two people in the world who can possibly love her as much as we do." Nodding, he drew in a sharp breath. "She needs us. Well, us and food… and maybe some cute shoes and dresses, you know, the important things," she said, laughing lightly as she did.

Her laughter was music to his ears and went far in dissipating the tension that had settled over him. "I can do that, although not the feeding part, at least not yet. And maybe not the shopping part either, not if she turns out anything like you," he said, chuckling along with her.

"You might be out of luck there. She already shows a preference for pretty, sparkly things." He groaned at the comment. Wearing a sly, guilt-laden smile, she opened her arms and shrugged, looking completely adorable as she did. "Well, I had to make some contribution to her genetic make-up," she defended.

"There's a shoe gene?" he snickered.

"As it is she's already entirely like you," she continued, pretending she didn't hear him.

"Well, I beg to differ. She smiles and all I see is you."

"You do?" She sounded doubtful, but there was no mistaking the hopeful look in her eyes.

"Yeah, I do. Every day she does something that reminds me of you." _And every day I love the both of you more than I thought possible._ The words hovered on his lips, but he held them back, twisted up by the notion that maybe it wasn't only his daughter he wasn't enough for. A sudden, deep yawn she couldn't suppress caught his attention and pulled him out of his thoughts. "Baby, you're exhausted. Why don't you go back to bed," he suggested, giving her a tender look. "I'll just sit with her a bit longer, make sure she's down for the rest of the night."

Her head was shaking before he'd even finished his sentence. "Thanks, but I'm good. I can wait till you put her down."

"Cal?"

"What?" she asked defensively, answering his questioning look with one of her own. "I'd prefer not to go to bed alone," she shrugged off-handedly.

"Okay."

He accepted her answer, knew not to force the issue, but she wasn't done explaining. "I miss you when you're not there. I had enough of that this week."

The words came as no surprise, they'd been together long enough that sleeping alone was akin to sleeping on the wrong side, wrong end of the bed. No matter how you were positioned or how many times you convinced yourself that your discomfort was all in your head, it nonetheless felt all wrong. The words may not have surprised him any, but hearing them warmed him all over and provided the impetus for his own confession to come tumbling out.

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "I should've stayed with you. I never should've left at night."

"Tim, you were trying to work in addition to spending as much time at the hospital as you could, you needed to sleep sometime," she cut in to say.

"Yeah, but I didn't sleep. I'd come home and wander around and end up crashing on the couch for a couple hours." His face twisted at the memory of the previous night's fitful sleep on the too soft, too small sofa and the resulting twinges in his lower back. "You know, I don't mind being alone, I never have. In fact, I probably prefer it." He'd had his gaze trained on her while he spoke and her sudden change in expression pulled him up short. The sympathetic look she'd sported had given way to one he had a hard time reading. Several long moments of squinting at her and hoping for a clue passed before he realized what was wrong. "_Before_ we got together, Calleigh," he said, grateful for the reassuring recognition that passed over her face. "Even now, although I don't prefer it, I don't mind being alone, but these past few nights being here in the house without you, without the two of you? That was a different kind of alone, an uncomfortable alone. I don't really know how to explain it."

Her hand found its way to his, slipping inside and twining their fingers. "You don't have to explain, I think I understand." He nodded slightly, and waited, wondering if more was forthcoming. The room was silent save for the sound of steady rain on the roof. The green eyes staring into his had a faraway look in them and he wondered if she was lost in thought or about to fall asleep. Then in an instant, the twinkle was back and a satisfied smile spread across her face as if she'd found the missing pieces to his verbal puzzle. "We're a family, Tim. We belong together and under one roof." It was a simple statement of fact, nothing more and nothing less.

"Yeah, we are." They were a family; his family and they belonged together. How had he ever resisted giving himself over to this woman for as long as he had? Returning her smile with one of his own, he gave her hand a light squeeze. "What do you say we put this little girl down?"

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to part with her tonight," she teased in her lilting drawl.

"Can't keep my other girl up all night."

"You could try," she challenged, giving him an irresistible smile. Rising off the floor, she gently took Ali out of his arms and carried her to the crib. Tim followed behind, watching as she lightly kissed the sleeping baby before laying her down and covering her with the blanket. She turned to him, smiling serenely. "I think we're good," she whispered.

Nodding, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her gently. "I love you, Calleigh."

It wasn't the first time he'd told her, although he was certainly guilty of not telling her nearly enough, but it was the first time the words had slipped out effortlessly. Her eyes widened slightly, the only indication that perhaps this declaration still had the capacity to surprise her, but in a flash her face lit up with a beaming smile. Snaking her hands around his neck, she raised on her toes to meet his lips in a gentle caress. "I love you, too, Tim."

"How 'bout we get you to bed?" Clasping her tightly against him, he pressed a kiss on her forehead.

"Mm… I like that idea." Slipping her arms around him, she rested against his chest with a sigh of contentment.

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he tucked her into his side and started for the door. "I'll rub your back if you want."

"That always puts me to sleep," she complained.

Quirking a questioning brow in her direction, he wondered if he misunderstood. "And this is a problem, why?"

"I don't want to go to sleep," she answered with an impish grin.

"Oh really? Well, maybe I can help you with that," he said seductively.

"I was hoping you would," she purred.

"Then I won't disappoint," he snickered as they reached the doorway. Turning around he glanced back at the flashlight still casting its soft glow in the room. Satisfied that Ali wouldn't be waking up in the pitch-black, he bid a silent thanks for his good fortune before heading out of the room.

Seems his daughter wasn't the only one who'd needed illumination tonight, waking in the dark, her father had finally seen the light.

The end


End file.
